


Russian Roulette

by Ghost (Laurincia)



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: His name's Roulette cause yeah, M/M, Potential Bad Russian, Vigilante!Vladimir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurincia/pseuds/Ghost
Summary: Vladimir had decided to hang up his mobster title when he escaped the tunnels with Daredevil, and decided to fight crime alongside the blind lawyer that isn't a lawyer by night.





	Russian Roulette

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this I found on Tumblr:  
> What if Vladimir does not die and his near-death experience, coupled with the loss of his brother and the betrayal of Fisk, makes him rethink his life and he decides to try and help people to make-up for his crimes so he becomes a vigilante alongside Daredevil! His signature as a vigilante is how he threatens criminals with a old-style revolver and gives them the choice whether to give him what he wants or let chance decide their fate (he tells them that there is only one bullet in the gun). He keeps pulling the trigger and the champers of the revolver keep coming up empty until the person he’s threatening eventually loses their nerves. Because of this the media gives him the vigilante name ‘Roulette’ (he doesn’t hide his accent so it’s common knowledge on the streets that he’s Russian). The truth is, however, that there are never any bullets in the gun at all because Vladimir doesn’t want to kill people anymore, he’s had enough death, and he wants to make his brother proud!
> 
> The Russian cursing is from some Russian curse sites I found on Google, I don't know if they're accurate or not though....

It had been a quiet night when it first started. Cars drove up and down the streets while Vladimir was trying to keep up with Matt, running up and around all the buildings, occasionally touching the ground to beat up anyone who needed beating up. A corner store owner had been grateful the duo stopped a late night robbery and let them take a couple pieces of candy, so that was nice. They slipped back into an alleyway and Matt let Vladimir eat his candy. Turns out the Russian was rather fond of sweet things so he was more than happy to take Matt’s extra large snickers bar and eat that alongside his own Reese's peanut-butter cups. 

 

They had been following a fading trail of a large drug ring that had surfaced in Hell’s Kitchen during both night and day. Surprising how easily people trusted Vladimir just because he looked like a badass Russian who was more than happy to punch a couple people, so he took the liberty of infiltrating as much as the drug ring as he could, while Matt and Vladimir chased them and fought crime at the same time during the night as Daredevil and Roulette. Vladimir didn’t really mind the nickname. It was stupid as shit, but it was fitting for what he did. 

 

Obligatory time skip to the next morning when Vladimir woke up in the same alley that he and Matt were in last night. A car had crashed through a wire fence and straight towards Matt and Vladimir. Of course, the selfless and partially idiotic blind, crime fighting lawyer in a devil suit showed Vladimir out of the way and took the full force hit of the speeding car. By the time Vladimir got back up, the car was nowhere to be seen, and Matt was gone. “ Бля!”

 

Vladimir ran back to Matt’s stupidly swanky apartment and called Matt’s nurse friend. During their late night crime fighting spree, he may have gotten a couple broken ribs, but powered through with sheer Russian power - or stupidity as Matt so fondly said. 

“You two idiots are still running around punching things?” Claire asked the second Vladimir let her in. 

“соси хуй,” Vladimir muttered. 

Claire raised an eyebrow. “Translation?”

“Suck my dick,” Vladimir repeated in English. He took off his crime fighting outfit Matt had Melvin make. 

“You know, I  _ could _ just let you suffer, but I know how much Matt likes you,” Claire growled. 

“Thanks,” Vladimir pouted. 

Claire sighed and got to work patching Vladimir up. She decided to stay at Matt’s place for a couple days when he had explained what happened. She most likely would’ve had to patch them both up whenever Vladimir returned with Matt.  _ Hopefully,  _ he returns with Matt. 

 

* * *

 

Night fell, and Vladimir put on his black suit and ran out into Hell’s Kitchen, searching everywhere for anything possibly leading to Matt. He ran everywhere, beating up anyone who had anything to do with the drug ring that the two had been following since forever. One beat up person to the next, the minor grunts that were selling drugs finally lead him to one of the heads, someone said something about the Dogs of Hell. So, Vladimir just said ‘fuck it’ - literally - and spent the next couple days searching.

 

The second day in, Vladimir finally found a trail. He followed it to some random section of New York, with a shitload of dive bars and dank alleyways. Someone walked out a door from one of the bars and into in a dark alleyway and figured that that was the best bet of a place of importance. Vladimir figured that pulling a page out of Daredevil’s braille book and sneak around would be the best, but that wouldn’t be any fun. The lights were conveniently broken, so Vladimir just walked. He didn’t care about keeping quiet. The man was getting nervous and started walking the opposite direction, avoiding the echoing footsteps of heavy combat boots. Vladimir followed and soon started running. Heavy footsteps echoed and splashed in small puddles that might contain some sort of hepatitis, and tackled the man to the ground. “Where’s Daredevil?!” Vladimir growled. 

“I-I ain’t tellin’!” The guard yelled. 

Vladimir clicked his tongue and threw the guard against the brick walls, and pulled out his Smith and Wesson Model 3 revolver, his prized possession. “Such a shame,” Vladimir muttered. He pretended to put a bullet into the chamber and spun it. It was dark, so it’s not like the man would’ve noticed either way. “There is a bullet in the gun, do you want to take a chance?” Vladimir asked. 

“So you’re Roulette? Disappointing,” the man responded. 

Vladimir scoffed and pressed the barrel to the man’s forehead. “Not like I was hiding. Now, where is Daredevil?” He asked again. 

“Fuck you,” the man responded. 

Vladimir pulled the trigger. A click sounded, and the man flinched. “I ask again. Where is Daredevil?”

“Fuck you.” The same response. 

Vladimir pulled the trigger again. Another click sounded, and another flinch. “Where is Daredevil?” 

“F-fuck you.” 

Another click. “Where is Daredevil?”

“Eat shit.”

Vladimir pulled the trigger again. The man was breathing heavily. A car had turned onto one of the main streets and illuminated the alleyway for a second. Vladimir could see that the man was sweating profusely. Wasn’t going to be long until he broke. “Where is Daredevil, Пиздаеб?” 

“Go to hell.” 

Vladimir pulled the trigger again and the man flinched so hard he slammed his head against the brick wall. Vladimir laughed. “There are two shots left. You want to take the chance?” He asked. 

“H-he’s in the basement!” The man confessed. 

“Good man,” Vladimir said. He holstered the revolver and made his way into the bar from where the man had exited. 

 

The second Vladimir entered the bar, buff looking boozeheads stopped doing whatever they were doing and stared. “I’m here for the devil,” Vladimir calmly said. Instantly, a brawl broke out. Chairs and bottles were thrown. Vladimir’s style of close quarters combat was improv and random punches at best, using heavier, more muscle clad men’s momentum against them by throwing them over his shoulder. He slammed some heads against bar tops, broke stools and pool cues, even throwing a few pool balls at a couple men until everyone had been knocked out or suffering from a couple broken bones. He found a cliche hidden door in a bookshelf and followed the dark stairs down to a dimly lit cement room. In the center sat in a chair, was Matt. 

“Matvey!” Vladimir rushed over and cut the paracord binding Matt’s wrists. “You alright?” 

“Vladimir?” Matt muttered. 

“Here.” 

“You came,” Matt sounded surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Matt groaned as Vladimir picked him up bridal style. 

“Come now. Nurse friend is waiting,” Vladimir whispered.

“Claire?” Matt asked. 

Vladimir nodded as if Matt could see. “I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Rough translations:  
> Бля - fuck  
> соси хуй - Suck my dick  
> Пиздаеб - cunt fucker (Seemed fitting)


End file.
